Of Makeouts And Mattresses
by scifigeekgirl
Summary: The Doctor and Rose find an adventure in domesticity. A birthday story for a who in whoville


a/n This story was a collaboration by Aintafraidanoghosts, Timelord1 and Me! Written for a_who_in_whoville for her birthday today! We had lots of fun writing together for the lovely and talented a_who_in_whoville because she rocks our socks off. Yes, we all no longer have socks because of how hard she's rocked them. It's true! Ask anybody!

Disclaimer: Nope, we don't own Doctor who or any of the lovely characters

The Doctor gripped Rose's hand firmly as he scanned the dangerous landscape ahead of them. The air was filled with the noxious fumes of cosmetics, new clothing and human mixed with that undefinable scent of currency. Yes, this was indeed a dangerous place filled with humans on the hunt for that most elusive and desired creature, the bargain. They would almost trample across you if you got between them and their quarry. This self contained retail environment filled with every item from clothing to cosmetics to housewares and furnishings was indeed the Doctor's worse nightmare. He could only be thankful that he had Rose by his side to face off against the hordes of hungry sales people clawing at them to purchase their wares.

"Doctor, it's just a shop," Rose said, smiling as she tugged him further into the big department store.

He turned to her. "Henriks was just a shop and we know how that turned out don't we," he cautioned as he looked suspiciously at some mannequins.

"Yep," Rose responded, popping her ps. "Got myself an alien and a trip through time and space!" she responded, squeezing his hand as she tugged him onto the escalator. He looked at her with a happy grin.

"Not a bad day that!" he agreed. "A bit of arson and explosions, defeated the invading alien and got myself a pink and yellow girl as part of the bargain!" he explained as they rode the escalator up. He leaned down and whispered into her ear. "Ya know, I could fix this so we wouldn't have to stand here all boring and…"

"Doctor!" Rose interrupted, having visions of being flung off a soniced up escalator. "No. We're almost there. I promise, we'll make this quick and go get a banana smoothie." He looked quite pleased although she caught him shooting looks at the escalator while playing with his sonic in his pocket.

After escaping the potential escalator of doom, Rose pulled the Doctor toward housewares and furniture departments. Of course, he had to stop and pick through the housewares department, muttering about primitive cultures and antiquated devices that could certainly be a little more sonic. He picked up a cream whipper, holding the tall stainless still cylinder at eye level and then quirked an eye brow at Rose with a naughty twinkle in his eye. "Now this…this has potential! Just think of it, Rose. A sonic cream whipper," he said with sexy smirk.

Rose blushed. "Doctor… we have to get goin. I promise, if you help me pick out a new bed, I'll buy you a cream whipper to play with."

He grinned at her, set it down and followed pausing one more time. His eyes grew wide and he picked up a box like it was the Holy Grail. Rose looked at the box labeled "Jam Making Set" and the way he was protectively holding it to his chest and knew there was no way she was continuing on into the store without it. Rose looked at him pouting and determined, sighed and surrendered to the fact she was buying this right now. One slide of her credit card made the Doctor indeed a happy Time Lord and far more amiable to shopping for a new bedroom suite.

They were greeted in the furniture department by a tall, thin man with graying short brown hair in a charcoal gray suit with a yellow paisley tie by the name of Mr. Fictus. He greeted them politely but with reserve.

"Hi, um we're here to find some new bedroom furniture," Rose said to the salesman, her grip tightening on the Doctor's hand as she felt him fidget.

Mr. Fictus looked from Rose to the Doctor in a slow, odd, bird-like movement. "Very well. This way, please," he said and turned and led them away. Rose thought he was a bit odd but shrugged it off. The Doctor, on the other hand, was more suspicious.

He leaned over to Rose. "Did you smell that?" he whispered as they walked but still eyeing Mr. Fictus.

"Smell what?" Rose asked, but knowing the tone in the Doctor's voice. It was the same tone he used when he threw her mother's prized petunias in the pool declaring them to be alien. Of course, they weren't, and despite his assurances it was exactly like this alien from the planet Vendara something, he still ended up with her mother chasing him around the pool with a broom.

"That sickly sweet odor. It's coming from him. It's not human," he again whispered, indicating Mr. Fictus who had led them to several displays of bedroom suites.

"Doctor, it's just cologne. Granted, it's really bad cologne, but still…doesn't make it alien," she whispered back and then smiled brightly at Mr. Fictus who returned a rather fake smile. The Doctor muttered about knowing the difference between rubbish putrid Earth scents and the smell of an alien hiding.

Mr. Fictus began reciting some boring sales pitch advising them of the quality of the wood used in the furniture, the technology of memory foam, springs, materials of construction and grades of mattresses. By the time he finished, even Rose was getting slightly suspicious of him. She asked if he could give them a moment. He slowly and awkwardly inclined his head and almost glided away to a distance where he stood watch over them as if he expected them to abscond with a mattress.

Rose sat on a mattress and bounced. The Doctor paced and leaned down and sniffed it making an unhappy face. Rose stood up and walked over to another bed but before she could sit the Doctor leapt onto it and bounced, laying across it and eventually turning on his side in a seductive pose, waggling his eyebrows at her. Rose giggled and jumped on it next to him. They both proceeded to bounce up and down and then fell backwards in giggles.

"Are you finding this one to your liking?" Mr. Fictus asked, reappearing over their supine forms. The Doctor took another deep sniff, eyeing the sales clerk suspiciously.

"Kaxh, ne ghavlerra bol _neeshthe_," the Doctor said slowly as he sat up. Rose remained on her back, rolling her eyes and blowing out cheekfulls of frustrated breath. Fictus stiffened, straightening his hideous tie and rearing his head back in a singularly bird-like fashion. Ostrich-like, to be precise. Even Rose took notice.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked.

The Doctor nodded, smirking at him. "I beg yours, sir. Forgive me, I thought I knew you from somewhere." He offered Rose his hand and helped her to her feet. "We'll just browse a few more of these suites and we'll come find you when we're ready."

"Very good, sir," Fictus said, turning and walking away. The Doctor watched his retreat for a moment before giving Rose a smug smile.

"Told you," he said, walking to the next arrangement of furniture. Rose stalked after him.

"Told me what?" she demanded. He was opening drawers on the bureau, peering inside them as if expecting to find someone's knickers inside. "He didn't understand a word you said."

"So you think!" the Doctor cried, drawing the attention of the nearby shoppers. He leaned in conspiratorially, whispering into Rose's ear. The feel of his lips brushing her earlobe made it very hard to concentrate on what he was saying. "I insulted him. This?" He stepped away from her and performed a ridiculously exaggerated performance of Mr. Fictus's tie-pulling and ostrich reaction. "That was him trying very hard not to shed his human form and challenge me to the blood duels of Orecathus VII. That man is an alien!" He shouted the last sentence, drawing more than a few shocked looks and gasps from the surrounding patrons.

"Bollox!" Rose whispered back, tugging him towards a suite in a far corner of the showroom. "What is wrong with you?"

"Can't you smell it?" he asked. "The unmistakable, cloying odor of ythracicatie?"

Rose smirked. "Say that three times fast."

"Ythracicatie ythracicatie ythracicatie," he said with a shrug. "What's that got to do with anything? Stay with me on this one. He has to mist himself with a tincture of ythracicatie to maintain the human form. If he dries out, he's going to sprout feathers and an impressive set of wings, not to mention a dual jaw filled to the brim with teeth made for no other purpose but to rend the flesh from human bones."

Rose put her hand on her hip. "And the petunias?"

"An easy mistake to make. This man stinks of alien from head to cheap shoes, _and you know it too._ You just don't want to admit it." He stared at her a moment, a look of hurt in his bright brown eyes. "You used to trust me, trust my judgment. When did I lose my credibility with you?"

Rose sighed and took hold of his hands. "Never. It's just hard to believe the alien threats would be able to find us here, with you…the way you are now."

He shrugged. "Still part Time Lord, don't forget. That part's a magnet for trouble."

"Jeopardy friendly," Rose murmured, closing the distance between them. She fingered the lapels of his suit and he dipped his head down to kiss her softly. She answered the kiss, pulling him closer to her, and they sank to the nearest mattress, wrapping their arms around one another. He pulled her all the way onto the bed and they snuggled into the starchy bedding, a tangle of hands and lips and sighs.

"I rather like this one," the Doctor sighed, detaching himself from her lips to kiss down her neck. Rose gasped and closed her eyes, surrendering to his ministrations.

"This is so wrong," she whispered. "Makin' out in the furniture department?"

"What better place?" the Doctor answered. "Don't tell me you never considered the possibilities when you were working at Henrik's."

"I was in women's apparel," Rose said, clutching his arms and gasping anew as he began kissing just the right spot on the side of her neck. "Right there, please."

"I'd like to get you out of women's apparel," he growled against her throat. "The sooner the better."

"Really," a haughty voice said above them. Rose opened her eyes to see a pair of older ladies looking down at them with undisguised revulsion.

The Doctor's head popped up, his mouth smeared with Rose's lip gloss. "This model's sold." He snatched the edge of the comforter and pulled it over himself and Rose, who could not stop giggling. In his attempt to wrap them both completely in the comforter like a burrito, he inadvertently rolled them too close to the edge of the bed and they fell to the floor, taking the bedclothes and pillows with them. Rose was cackling with laughter, smacking him with every pillow she could grab as he tried to extract himself from the comforter.

"My jam set!" he cried, stumbling back to the other side of the bed. His trainer was still tangled in the bedding and he fell flat, making Rose laugh so hard she couldn't catch her breath. He popped up, freed himself, and got to his feet.

Only to find himself face to face with Mr. Fictus, whose face was now the color of the centre of a Jammie Dodger.

"Can I help you?" He asked, his voice booming across the department.

"Yeah, we want that set, delivered this afternoon," the Doctor said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He was nodding at Fictus, and suddenly he leaned in to take a good, long sniff.

"Pardon me!" the clerk blustered, stepping away.

"Ohhhhhhhh," the Doctor said, smacking his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Not Orecathus VII. Orecathus _IX_!" He looked back at Rose, who was now trying unsuccessfully to re-make the bed they'd dismantled. "Totally different dialect. No wonder he couldn't understand me."

"Well?" she asked, waving her hand at him. "Get on with it, then."

The Doctor leaned in close to Mr. Fictus, so close that their noses were almost touching. "Egrathya vish taj mahul chek-tha!" he said, grinning triumphantly.

And was promptly punched in the face.

"Dr. Smith, Mrs. Smith-" the department store manager warbled.

"Miss Tyler, actually," Rose interrupted, holding a cold pack to the Doctor's jaw.

"Of-of course!" he stammered. "Terribly rude of me to presume…"

"Oh, no, it's a natural assumption-" The Doctor squinted at the manager's nametag. "Hector. We do come off rather married, don't we? In fact, Rose, that sounds brilliant! We should-"

"Doctor," she warned. "Not exactly the best time…"

"We will be happy to offer you a 40% discount off your purchase today," Hector continued. "And we will credit your account for the jam making set. Completely on us!"

"The fact of the matter is, _sir_," Rose emphasized the last word. "One of your employees assaulted my partner. You are very lucky he doesn't want to press charges!"

"Well, to be fair, I did call him a-"

"You are absolutely correct, Miss Tyler, and I assure you that the situation is being dealt with," he told her before standing up. "In fact, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I will go and ensure that things are handled appropriately."

"Of course," Rose replied.

"Feel free to use my office to…recuperate, Dr. Smith," Hector told him. "I will return in the flashest of flashes."

Rose waited until the door clicked shut behind him before turning to the Doctor, who put on an appropriately miserable face. Rose grinned, leaning over to press a kiss to the rapidly-forming bruise on his jaw. "Poor love," she simpered. "My big, brave manly man. Does it hurt very much?"

"Oh, Rose," he moaned dramatically. "This could be the end. My beautiful, perfect jaw. They might even have to wire it shut. Oh, and then I would talk like Jodie Foster for the rest of my life! Rose! Don't let them take me!"

Rose giggled. "I think by the grace of God, you're gonna be all right."

He let out an exaggerated breath of relief. "Good." He suddenly grinned at her, that sun-from-behind the clouds smile that always made her forget that there was a world outside of their own little bubble. "There's just one more department I wanted to stop in before we leave."

"Oh, yeah?" she replied, threading her fingers through his hair and smiling back. "Where's that then?"

"Fine jewelry. I had always planned to get you a Krepthelian blue diamond, dug out of the mountainside by my very two hands, but as that is no longer an option…"

"What on Earth are you babbling about?"

"Well, I decided two minutes after the last time would, in fact, be the best time." He smiled brilliantly and tugged her into his lap. "What d'you say?"

"Doctor," Rose began slowly. "Are you…proposing?"

"I am."

"In the basement of a department store?"

"Seemed appropriate. I first met you in the basement of a department store."

"You got me there." Rose leaned in and kissed him, unable to stop smiling even as they pressed their lips together. She continued to happily kiss him until a stray thought caused her to pull away. "Hold on…did you _plan _this?"

"Hmmm," he murmured, grasping her waist and pulling her back against him. "Wouldn't that have been something…"

"Certainly would have," she breathed. "I have such a brilliant fiancée…"

The Doctor's smile widened. "Does that mean…?"

Before he could finish, Rose cut him off with a voracious kiss. He responded enthusiastically, standing up with her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist. He swept his hand across Hector's desk and laid Rose down across it. She wiggled in discomfort and groaned. "The mattress was more comfortable…"

"We can do this again as soon as it's delivered…" he murmured, brushing a kiss across her ear and down her neck. "And again after we take the plastic off…and again after we…"

Rose gasped as his mouth closed over her pulse point. "It's gonna take a while to get the furniture set up. And is this all happening in front of the workmen?"

"I'll send them on a coffee break…and a lunch break…and a 'I-simply-must-ravish-my-fiancée' break…"

Before Rose could respond, a knock at the door interrupted their reverie.

"Occupied!" the Doctor called out, working her jumper up her torso and following the path with his lips.

"Dr. Smith, Miss Tyler…" a familiar voice called from the other side of the door. "I've come to apologize for my behavior…"

"Come back later, Birdo!" the Doctor called back, working the cups of Rose's lacy bra down with his teeth. Rose gasped and wriggled against him.

"I'm afraid this matter needs to be addressed immediately," Mr. Fictus called. "May I come in?"

"We probably should talk to him…" Rose gasped as his teeth brushed against her.

The Doctor sighed, releasing Rose's undergarment and pulling her up from the desk. He helped straighten her clothing and kissed her deeply, whispering a dark promise of "Later," against her lips before retrieving the cold pack from the floor and leaning casually against the desk.

"Come on in, Mr. Fictus," Rose called, taking her place at his side.

He came into the office, looking appropriately contrite as he stood in the doorway. "That was…a very inappropriate reaction, Dr. Smith. I should not have let my temper get the better of me. I am truly sorry."

"Oh, well, Mr. Fictus," the Doctor began. "I did call you a-"

"Yes, I'm aware," he sighed. "Are you…Torchwood?"

Rose perked up. "Yes, we're Torchwood agents. Why do you ask?"

"Well," Mr. Fictus wrinkled his nose in displeasure. "It seems I may need to take advantage of your OWEP…"

"Our _what?_" the Doctor asked, looking at Rose with one eyebrow raised.

"OWEP," she answered. "Off-Worlder Employment Program. Of course, Mr. Fictus. Let me give you my card…"

The Doctor's eyes lit up. "So what you're saying," he began. "Is that you _are _an alien?"

"Yes, Dr. Smith," he replied. "You were correct, Orecathus IX. I was very shocked that you could tell. No human has ever been able to sense what I truly am…"

"I'm not exactly your average human," the Doctor replied.

"I gathered." Mr. Fictus chuckled. "I will be contacting you and your mate. Thank you, and again, I apologize. I am supposed to be cleaning out my locker…"

"Of course," Rose said gently. "Please contact us whenever you can, and I'll put you in touch with the right people."

Mr. Fictus nodded, hanging his head. He made a motion to leave the room, but must have caught sight of the clutter strewn about the floor. "I should give Mr. Langan a talking to about the importance of a well-organized, tidy office. Can't hurt, I'm already fired." He sighed. "Thank you again, Miss Tyler, Dr. Smith."

Rose nodded as he left the room. She then sighed and turned to the Doctor, who was grinning broadly.

"Go on," she huffed. "Get it out of the way."

"Who's the man now, dawg?" he exclaimed, raising his hands in the air. He froze for a moment before lowering his arms and scrunching up his nose in distaste. "Nope, absolutely _never _saying that again…"

Rose giggled before stepping close to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. She pressed her lips gently to his, pouring every bit of emotion she could muster into the kiss. "I love you," she murmured.

"I love you," he replied. Rose loved that he still grinned like a fool every time he said the words. He kissed her again and wagged his eyebrows suggestively when they broke apart. "How many beds do you think we can make out on before we get kicked out of this place?"

Rose laughed. "I'll bet you ten quid they catch us after the fifth one…"

"Done!" The Doctor laced their fingers together and tugged her out of the office, the pair of them giggling madly the entire time.

They only made it to the second bed before security quietly escorted them out.


End file.
